


Call Me When You're High

by ectojohnny



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Kinda, M/M, breaking up, uhhh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 16:41:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1175381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ectojohnny/pseuds/ectojohnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Now it's three in the morning, and I'm trying to change your mind.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Left you multiple missed calls until my message you reply.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Why'd you only call me when you're high?</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call Me When You're High

**Author's Note:**

> wheeze ok this is my first fic so its probably a little sucky so im sorry
> 
> thisll also have two parts probably three
> 
> thank you razz for betaing and htmlimg the color stuff im sorry i suck 
> 
> also! the song is "Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High?" by Arctic Monkeys
> 
> enjoy!!!

It was five years ago when he told you he couldn’t do it anymore and would rather be “best bros” because it was "hella easier that way man i hope you dont take this wrong way".

It was two and half years ago when he dropped you from his life without an explanation or reason.

It was hard, you weren’t gonna lie. The beginning was disastrous, filled with evenings of either drinking yourself into oblivion or binging on Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while watching his favorite movies. After a while, you stopped pretending he was right next to you, muttering out snarky comments about how shitty the camera angles were or "how could you call this acting jesus egbert this is worse than the time we tried being extra kinky in the bedroom mr id rather you stick your wrench up my pipe hole instead" "shut up, i was just trying to be like the dude in the porno!"

You were wallowing in self-pity to the point where you had an angry Rose barge into your apartment and rip your bedsheets off of you, claiming that "If you don’t get up right now I _swear_ to the godless God above I will _drag_ you out of this apartment by your hair kicking _and_ screaming if I have to. ", and true to her word she was. She literally grabbed your hair and dragged you to your bathroom, stripping you naked and shoving you into the shower. You would have been painfully embarrassed if you hadn’t remembered that she had seen you naked before, when she found you and him shagging on his couch years prior. You had contemplated just staying in the shower until she left, but like the impatient person she was, she waited for you outside the shower, glaring at you through the misty glass doors as you washed up.

You knew she was only worried about you, but you couldn’t help feeling irritated at her as she decided to take matters into her own hands and dress you up herself. You watched her as she buttoned up your shirt, taking in her features.

She was beautiful, everyone knew that. Every guy wanted to be with her throughout school, including you. From her purple close point lips, to her lavender eyes topped with fine winged eyeliner, she was the representation of perfection. Her cheekbones weren’t too high or too low-- perfect enough to compliment her heart-shaped face, jaw defined to show off her feminine features. Her eyebrows were the envy of every girl, a darker blonde than her almost too-white hair, which was cut into a bob, no stray hair sticking out.

Just looking at her made you want to throw up.

By no means was she anything like him, but they looked so alike, save for the eyes and the hair, which were the obvious. But you could point every physical difference between the two that weren’t obvious, like how his lips were a little bit thinner than Rose’s, and much more chapped. It was as if someone used a ruler to make Rose’s nose straight, unlike his, which could have been straight, except there was a barely noticeable bump from when you had punched him in his nose and broke it before you broke down crying and kissed him.

With your mind numb from memories, Rose managed to drag you out to go eat lunch at a sandwich bar on the other side of town, hoping that she didn’t end up taking you to a place where all it did was remind you of him.

To be honest, everything reminded you of him.

When you confessed that to Rose, she told you that you reminded her of a broken-hearted teenager, and you would have pointed out to her that you were a broken-hearted teenager if you didn’t remember that you were twenty three years old, almost twenty four, goddammit.

Since then, it was either her or Jade who came to take you out to places and distract you, hoping that you’ll meet someone that would replace the empty place in your heart that only he could. You remember Jade saying something along the lines of "john you gotta give someone else a chance!!! you cant be a hermit for the rest of your life :(" "you wanna bet?" "john!!!!!!" " fine, okay, no need to be snappy."

So you go out for the girls' sake, reporting back to them with false stories about how you picked up some pretty brunette chick or another and bought her drinks all night long and scored her number. They ate it all up, congratulating and praising you for moving on, even though you knew that they knew that somewhere in your story, you were lying.

You did go out to bars and clubs--but you didn't talk to anyone. You didn't buy anyone drinks. You kept to yourself and hoped you didn't bump into him, but a little part of you hoped you saw each other, even for a second.

 

* * *

 

After about four months, Rose and Jade decided to stop bothering you about having to go out. They saw that you could handle yourself on your own and decided only to hang out with you every other weekend so you could take a breather from them, which you were grateful for. There were moments, though, where you felt like you were going to break down, but you kept that to yourself lest the girls find out and start invading your personal bubble again.

On one of those nights where you wanted nothing more than to tear open your chest, you decided that it'd best if you go to a bar and drink your troubles away instead. You take a train to the other side of town and end up in a club where you were sure none of your friends would show up in and make yourself comfortable on a stool right in front of the bartender.

You do ask for the hardest drink he has available, and though he gives you a wary look, as if he wanted to ask you about your problems (you thought about how cliché it would be if he handed you a cup of whiskey and started wiping down the bar while listening to you rant), but he turns around and serves you your drink, handing it over.

"Make sure you don't drink too much of that, you hear?"

You were going to answer him before a girl with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes sits next to you and says, "Don't worry, Twitch, I'll take care of him."

Before you could say that you were capable of taking care of yourself, thank you very much, she sticks her hand out at you and introducers herself as Vriska Serket, spider-bitch extraordinaire.

Huh.

You introduce yourself as John Egbert, not-really-sure-what-to-say extraordinaire, and she seems to find that to be the most hilarious thing she's heard in her entire life. Her laugh is loud and obnoxious, and should have busted your ear drums, but you noticed that it was nothing like _his_ , which was soft and musical and lovely to your ears.

You're glad it was different.

She had full lips that looked soft and kissable, and truth be told, you did get to kiss those lips by the end of the night, and they were enticing; dangerous and tempting. Her skin was a creamy pale that made her blonde hair look like a halo. Her face had sharp features: her cheekbones prominent and her nose curving up a bit at the end. Her body was wonderfully curvy, the dip at her sides matching perfectly when you put your hands on them.

Her eyes were what trapped you. As said, they were a piercing blue, which were completely opposite from the sharp red that resembled the eyes of the devil, but her eyes weren't so angelic either. They were inviting, ready to lure in any poor boy, which so happened to be you.

But you didn't mind.

She gave you her number and you called her the next day, and the day after that. You two went out on dates and held hands, and she even allowed you to kiss her by her doorstep every night before she sent you back with a wave and wink, promising you a good time another day.

You were pretty sure you were falling in love with her, and maybe she, too, was falling in love with you. You spoiled her with things and she took you out on adventures around the city, showing you places you didn't even know existed.

You were completely and totally in love with her.

That is, until you two had sex for the first time.

She was wonderful and enthusiastic, and it was everything you've ever dreamt of, but there was just _something_ about it that just wasn't right. It felt as if...

It felt as if you were _cheating_ on him.

Instead of letting yourself fall into another swirl of depression, you just wrapped your arms around Vriska and willed yourself to sleep, dreaming that hopefully, maybe, one day you'll be able to sleep in a city that never wakes up.

 

* * *

 

You had been together for seven months with Vriska before you received the worst phone call of your life.

At that time, you were glad that your girlfriend hadn't decided to move in with you just yet, because you were pretty sure that this phone call would have ruined every and any chance you had with her in the future.

It was almost midnight when you got the call, and you were staring at the ceiling when you heard your phone vibrate. It was an unknown number, but the digits seemed eerily familiar to you. You answer it anyways with a gruff "Hello?" as you try to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

"Fuck, John, 's that you? Heh, you sound so fuckin' different, jesus fuckin' christ. Finally go through puberty?"

You were positive that your blood froze right then and there, and even though you weren't having a heart attack, you could have sworn that probably was how one felt like.

It hurt to speak, your throat clogged up with shock, and your eyes suddenly going blind with how watery they got. You haven't heard this voice in nearly three years, and it was as if everything came crashing down, as if it was the end of the world, because of _that_ voice.

"C'mon, Egbert, don't leave me hangin'." You hear a chuckle, a lazy chuckle, and you knew something was up.

"D...Dave?"

"Who else would it be? I'm pretty sure no other casanova sounds jus' like me."

His words were slurred, but you knew he wasn't drunk. You knew exactly how he sounded when he was drunk, so you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "Are you high?"

"Maybe? Jus' a li'l bit."

"Dave-"

"Naw, John, hear me out." You gulped down a choked sob as he spoke his next words, which you knew he'll regret saying the next day. "I'm missin' ya, John. Miss yer laugh and yer goofy smile and yer, fuckin' shit, I miss the sex."

You couldn't say anything to that; you _knew_ he had a girlfriend--  
Terezi Pyrope, Rose told you. She said that he was totally infatuated with her, even planned on proposing to her, but chickened out at the last second. You wanted to say that you missed him too, and that you were glad to hear his voice again, but you were also pissed off on so many levels. How could he just swoop in and talk to you as if he didn't disappeared from your life for two years?

"It's really late, Dave. Maybe we should talk tomorrow when you're sobered up?"

You hear a fuzzy sharp intake of a breath on the other side, and it was either him hissing in frustration or taking another puff of his blunt. "I don' wanna talk 'morrow. I wanna talk now. I've missed ya."

"I know-"

"Did ya miss me? I bet ya did. Rose told me ya didn't leave yer place for weeks. Hah!"

It was then that you allowed your tears to fall, but it was mostly from anger; angry at Dave for finding that funny, and angry at Rose for telling him what you did after he left. All you wanted to do now was punch a wall and scream. Instead, you took in a deep breath and calmly said, "I'm glad you find that funny."

"I don't find it funny, Egbert. I find it sad, but sad in the way where it makes me guilty, y'know? I'm sorry for leavin' ya- damn, I'm starvin'." There was a silence on the other side for a moment before you heard rustling, probably him opening a bag of chips. "Anyways, tell me ya missed me. I wanna hear that."

"..." You swallowed your pride and sighed, closing your eyes as you shakily said, "I missed you. But that doesn't mean you're allowed to call me at the asscrack of dawn and expect me not to hang up on you because I'm tired as fuck."

Just as you were about to click the end button, you hear a loud "John!" that made your heart leap in your chest as you put the phone back to your ear. "A'ight, I understand that you don't wanna talk, but I wanna talk, so you can just listen to me and not say a word, yeah?"

You nodded, even though you knew he couldn't see, but the silence you gave him was enough reassurance for him to continue on.

It was surprising how long he rambled on without you interrupting him once. He expressed how much of a fuck up he was when he left you, how he felt when he finally graduated from college (fuckin fantastic egbert it was like i finally became a miniature picasso but instead i have an art degree), how much he loved Terezi (you had to mute yourself at this part so he wouldn't hear you cry as he described how beautifully blind she was), and at some point, he reverted the conversation to how much he missed you, and it seemed like he missed you a lot. _A lot_ a lot.

If you had to describe how much a lot was, you would have been too embarrassed to explain or even demonstrate. It made you feel guilty the next morning, but during that time, you felt as if your head was in the clouds.

From the way you touched yourself to his words, you knew you were still in love with him. And from the way you heard him moan your name on the other side of the phone, you knew he was still in love with you, too.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i, razz, was here and mark this part of the fic as mine.


End file.
